


The Emergency Key

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The key was only ever supposed to be for emergencies. Robbie and Laura had told him to come and go as he wanted, of course, but James never intended to use it so casually. </p>
<p>The first time he slept at their house while they were away was certainly not planned, though the second time was a deliberate and conscious decision. And by the time they'd been gone for nearly five months, James would have to admit that he had practically moved in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Emergency Key

**Author's Note:**

> With huge thanks to my wonderful beta Owlbsurfinbird.

The key was only ever supposed to be for emergencies. Robbie and Laura had told him to come and go as he wanted, of course, but James never intended to use it so casually, though he appreciated the thought. And there really shouldn’t be any need to use it often, even with the house’s occupants on the other side of the world; any houseplants which might have needed watering had found temporary homes amongst Laura’s circle of friends, and Monty had long since moved up north to live with Lyn and her growing family.

“It’ll be good for our Jack to grow up with a pet in the house,” Robbie had explained at the time, though James hadn’t actually asked. “And Monty’s a good-natured cat; won’t be bothered by a little tyke like my grandson, and he’ll get a lot more attention than he ever got with me and Laura on call at all hours of the day and night.”

James had been surprised to find he missed Monty’s easy and unquestioning company, but he was certainly relieved not to have the responsibility of feeding him while Robbie and Laura were away. With his irregular working hours, it would’ve sadly been likely that the cat would either have starved in his care, or instead turned feral and filled the house with the half-eaten corpses of birds and mice before his owners returned. 

So, with no living organisms of any kind to keep alive, the key really was just for emergencies, and to allow James to keep a general eye on the house. He’d had it in his possession for years, of course, since shortly after Robbie had moved in with Laura, when he’d returned from his own travels across Spain.

But Laura had taken James to one side and asked him, quite seriously, if he minded checking on the place while they were away. “Just once a week,” she’d added quickly, almost guiltily, a worried and apologetic frown on her forehead. “Or even once a fortnight, if you’re too busy. Just to check everything is okay, and to clear the post from the mat. Honestly, we’ve put up that sign saying ‘no junk mail’, but we still get a dozen different takeaway menus stuffed through the letterbox every week. Drives me mad.”

James had agreed willingly – it was the least he could do for his two friends, he felt, and it was really no hardship at all. In the first couple of weeks they were away, he took to driving by on the way back to his flat every night after work. It was easy enough to pull into the drive, hop out of the car, and have a quick check around to see everything was secure. He cleared the mail too, as requested, putting the important-looking envelopes into an orderly pile and filing the junk into the recycling bin.

In the second week, he counted twenty-three takeaway menus. In the fourth, it was thirty-one. No wonder Laura had been so frustrated.

He’d always kept the key at his flat before they left, but now that they were gone, it nestled unobtrusively on James’s keyring instead, hanging between his own front door key and his car key. It didn’t take up much space, but it was surprisingly comforting to see it there, a reminder of the trust his friends had placed in him while they were off seeing the world. James wasn’t going to do anything to let them down.

He started to stop by on his way in to work each morning, as well as in the evening, just in case something had happened overnight. He didn’t get out of the car most times, but it made him feel better to see the windows all intact, and the front door still firmly locked.

James knew all the statistics, including just how unlikely a break-in actually was in that part of town, but he also knew how much heartache such an invasion could cause if it did happen. He’d attended more than enough burglaries during his time in the force, and done his best to comfort far too many devastated home owners. If pushed, though, he would have to admit that those depressing facts weren’t the only reason he kept visiting so frequently, using that emergency key at least once every day.

He missed them. He’d known he would, even if he had struggled to say it to either Robbie or Laura when he waved them off at Heathrow with a forced smile.

Life was so much quieter without them, and his flat seemed too big and too empty now they were on the other side of the world and he was alone in Oxford. Foolish, really; Robbie had only ever spent a couple of evenings there with him, and Laura had only visited once, for what must have been the most pathetic housewarming party ever held. Other visitors had been few and far between, but still, it had somehow never occurred to James how empty the place was until his friends had gone.

Laura and Robbie’s house held warm memories, of quiet evenings in front of the telly and louder dinner parties. It could never be too big or too empty, not for James, and it was comforting to still see it often, to look after the place until the happy couple came back. He felt closer to them both there, somehow.

One cold and rainy night, after far too long spent hunched over his desk, James didn’t manage to leave the station until nearly ten. It was blowing a gale, the heavy rain clattering constantly against his windscreen as he drove carefully across town to Robbie and Laura’s, and even the short run from his car into their house left James as wet as if he’d dived straight into a swimming pool with all his clothes on.

He stood there in the hallway, dripping onto the tiles, and took a slow, deep breath in. Held it a moment. Breathed out slowly through his mouth, closing his eyes briefly.

Outside, the storm seemed to building to a crescendo, but inside James was safe and warm, even without the heating on. He left his waterlogged shoes by the door and padded around in damply-socked feet to do his evening checks, shivering slightly in his wet clothes – he cleared away the mail, complete with another three pizza menus, and checked all the windows and the roof to make sure there weren’t any leaks.

After he’d completed a full circuit of the house, standing back in the hallway, James stared down at his shoes. The thought of putting them back on was truly not appealing, and the thought of going out to his car and negotiating the semi-flooded streets of Oxford back to his empty flat was even less so. The decision was made before he even realised it, and he turned away from the front door, back into the heart of the house.

That became the first night he ever stayed there without Robbie and Laura, tucked up beneath the heavy quilt in the little bed in their spare room, and despite the storm it turned out to be the best night’s sleep he’d had since they’d gone. He hadn’t realised how exhausted he’d been, not until the alarm on his phone went off the next morning and he was stunned to find he’d barely stirred.

Still, that key really was only supposed to be for emergencies, and reluctantly James forced himself back into his pattern of a morning drive-by and a full evening check. 

“Everything okay with the old place?” Robbie always asked, whenever they managed to speak on the phone. Actual conversations were far less frequent than James had hoped for – it seemed Robbie and Laura had both quickly adopted emails as their preferred method of staying in touch, given the time difference, and James could never find the heart to ring them himself and risk disturbing their holiday.

“Fine.” James reassured his friend every time the question came up, one time adding, “I cut the grass yesterday.”

“You didn’t have to do that, man, but thanks. We’re paying the gardening service to keep on top of all that while we’re gone, remember?” James did know, of course, but it still felt good to help out a little where he could. He could hear the smile in his friend’s voice as Robbie continued, “I’ll definitely owe you a pint or two when we get back. I can bore you half to death with all our holiday photos – I think we’re up into the thousands already. It’s far too easy with digital.”

They were having a great time, obviously, and even though James missed them both desperately, he was also delighted for them. He was so pleased Robbie had finally made the decision to go with Laura in spite of all his last-minute doubts and fears.

Robbie’s job – one of the biggest of those fears – would almost certainly be waiting for him when he got back. The department hadn’t fallen apart without him, of course, but there had been a noticeable gap in the team’s experience. James had even heard Moody mutter, “What would Lewis do?”, and he’d taken great pleasure in passing that on to his friend, earning a deep belly laugh which had warmed his heart.

He missed Robbie each and every day, but life carried on and work certainly kept him busy. It felt that he and Lizzie were becoming a smoother and more well-oiled machine with every passing hour, and, with Tony still out of the country, they gradually become tentative drinking buddies as well. It was always nice to share a pint or two and unwind after a hard day, rather than both of them going back to their separate flats alone, even though it wasn’t quite the same as it used to be with Robbie. 

The second time James slept at their house, it was a deliberate and conscious decision. It had been the case from hell, one of the worst he’d ever faced, and it was solved after more than a week of sleepless nights. Every time James thought he’d seen the true depths of the evil man could do, someone always seemed to feel the need to show him how wrong he was. 

It might be finished but James just couldn’t put it to bed that easily. After one quick drink together at the White Horse, Lizzie had disappeared off to see her friend Bex, needing to party harder than James felt he had the energy for, leaving him alone with his head still reeling.

Going back to his flat somehow wasn’t an option. If he went back to his flat he knew he’d get completely plastered on expensive whisky, pass out on his sofa sometime around dawn, and wake up feeling a thousand times worse. His empty, bare, echoing flat – James knew he’d spend the whole night dwelling on all the evil in the world, and why the hell he hadn’t solved it all sooner, though thank God he’d made the crucial link in the end. 

That might all have been enough, if Robbie had been there to lend a sympathetic ear to listen and a willing shoulder to lean on, but he wasn’t, and James just didn’t feel strong enough to face it all alone without imploding entirely.

He was on the verge of tears the entire drive over, though he didn’t realise that until the moment he shut the door firmly behind himself and stood at last in Robbie and Laura’s hallway once again. The weight on his chest eased almost immediately, and the vice around his throat seemed to loosen, until he could breathe at last.

Home. That was the only explanation for this feeling – he was home, and he was safe. He was suddenly so grateful for that little emergency key that a few tears slipped down his cheeks after all, as he closed his fist tightly around the key and squeezed until he could feel it almost cutting into his palm.

Home, even if it wasn’t truly his own home. James put his shoes by the door, lining them up methodically, and hung up his jacket carefully, smoothing the sleeves. He loosened the knot on his tie just enough to allow him to slip it up and over his head, pausing a moment before dropping it on top of his shoes, where it settled like a drunken snake.

He put on the kettle and made himself a strong cup of tea, with two extra sugars, then wandered slowly around the house as he sipped, letting it warm him from the inside out. He paused by the armchair he usually claimed as his own, then brushed his fingers along the back of the sofa, calloused tips catching on the soft fabric. He padded upstairs quietly, running his hand up the well-worn bannister, before slipping into the bedroom Robbie and Laura shared, his tea still in hand.

They’d been gone for nearly three months, but the room still smelled faintly of them both. James breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the comforting spice of Robbie’s aftershave and the fruitier scent of Laura’s favourite perfume, then he breathed deeper still, letting the fading aromas banish the memory of the scent of rotting flesh that had seemed to cling to him, in spite of the long shower he’d already taken back at the station. It was all in his mind, and now it was fading at long last. 

He didn’t want to pry. It seemed a betrayal of the trust he valued so deeply, but he couldn’t resist the urge to open the wardrobe door, just a crack. Just wide enough to glimpse Robbie’s suits hanging next to a few of Laura’s remaining dresses, the shoes which hadn’t been taken travelling sitting side by side at the bottom, high heels next to brogues next to trainers.

Tears prickled again at the backs of his eyes at the sight, and James left the room quickly. Finishing the last of his tea, he stripped and showered before crawling right into his own little bed in their spare room, not caring for dinner or alcohol, nor even one last cigarette.

In the darkness, buried beneath the heavy and comforting weight of the thick quilt, he lay still and continued to just breathe in and out slowly. Home. This was home, he told himself firmly, and he was safe from all the evils of the world there.

More than even that, James could almost imagine Robbie telling him, “It’s all over now, man. Get some rest. You did everything you could possibly have done.”

It wasn’t even remotely that simple, but the thought alone was comfort enough to let him slip into an unexpectedly dreamless sleep, and James awoke at dawn feeling far more upbeat than he’d dared to imagine, ready to face the last of the paperwork and start to move on.

It became something approaching a routine after that night. Only once a week at first, just after a particularly long or difficult day, then at weekends, just to keep a closer eye on the house. Just in case.

That was what James told himself, at least.

Their house did feel so much more like a home than his big, expensive, lovely new flat. He’d felt like a real grown-up when he’d moved in, whatever that might mean – so much space, all just for him, a symbol that he’d made something of his life – but he’d never truly realised how lonely all that space could really be.

This house was a home, complete with its wonky stairs and cramped corners. There was no space to spare, not in a house crowded with the possessions of two people bringing their very full lives together, and for James, with all his height, it should have felt nothing short of claustrophobic and cramped. Instead, though, it had only ever felt cosy, airy and light. He could breathe freely amidst the orderly clutter, in a way he couldn’t breathe in his spacious flat with all its high ceilings and wide windows.

By the time Robbie and Laura had been gone for nearly five months, James would have to admit that he had practically moved in to their house, and at some point, though he had no idea quite when, the emergency key had become his key instead of theirs. He found himself returning to his own flat only briefly every couple of days, barely staying long enough to pick up a change of clothes, or to collect a few books.

Lizzie knew. Of course she knew, and James couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed or to care enough to actually move out. He hadn’t told her, but she was a bloody good detective, easily putting all the pieces together. 

There had been a call-out very early one morning, before the sun had even started to rise, and for no obvious reason James’s car had simply refused to start. “I’ll pick you up, sir,” she’d chirped, sounding far too chipper for such an ungodly time of day. “You’re on my way anyhow. About ten minutes, okay?”

“I’m not – ” Not at home, he’d been going to say, only he was. Home just wasn’t his flat at that moment. “I’m at Robbie and Laura’s place, actually, Lizzie. I came over to check on the house last night, and it got so late that I just…”

Lizzie hadn’t even missed a beat before replying. “That’s fine, sir, really. Bit further for me, though, so I’ll be there in about twenty minutes instead. Hope everything was okay with the house.”

She’d never said another word on the subject, though she hadn’t batted an eyelid when James asked her to drop him back at the house that evening instead of taking him to his flat. James was grateful for her discretion. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, and he knew both Robbie and Laura would tell him that much, but he felt strangely guilty all the same.

Not guilty enough to confess over the phone, of course, when Robbie called next.

“Everything still okay with the house?” Robbie asked again, after they’d spent nearly an hour catching up, their first phone call in almost a fortnight. “Feel bad, I’ve got to say, making you trudge all that way across town to check on the old place.”

“Everything’s just fine, really, and it’s no bother at all.” James was actually lying on Robbie and Laura’s couch as he spoke into his mobile, a glass of wine on their coffee table and one of his own CDs playing over their sound system. “I cleaned out your gutters the other day.”

“Thanks, James, you’re a good friend. I can’t believe how the time’s flown by – we’ll be home in just another couple of weeks now, and by my reckoning I’ll be owing you about a month’s worth of pints!”

James smiled in delight at the thought of having his friends back in Oxford so soon. “I’d settle for just a couple of pints and a good home-cooked meal,” he bargained. “Just so long as Laura’s the one doing the cooking.”

Robbie’s answering laugh was loud and strong, and the memory of that laugh gave James the strength to make it through the long last sixteen days until they returned. He was aware he was smiling more freely at work, feeling far more tolerant than usual when his team joked around with him, and it occurred to him belatedly that the absence of his friends might have had more of an impact on him than he’d ever realised.

The only hint of a grey cloud on James’s horizon was the prospect of moving back to his flat, but he knew he’d far rather have Robbie and Laura back in his life – he had a strong gut feeling that he’d be spending most of his evenings back at the house with the pair of them anyway, seeing all those thousands of photos and watching hours of home movies. He’d probably end up sleeping back in their spare bedroom after all.

He hadn’t moved in many of his own things during their absence, and so clearing everything back out again was surprisingly simple enough, with his guitar the only large item that had made the move semi-permanently. Along with the array of bathroom products which had somehow filled the bathroom cabinet left empty by his friends’ departure, one large rucksack and his guitar case was all it took, and no one would know James had ever been there.

The night before Robbie and Laura were due to fly home, with James due to pick them up from Heathrow at seven in the morning, he checked around one last time just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, running through a mental checklist.

He’d filled the cupboards and the fridge ready for their return. He’d cut the grass again, cleaned the windows, even run the hoover around and scrubbed the bathroom and kitchen. The mail was ready and waiting in a neatly stacked pile, and the recycling bin emptied, though James had quietly taken care of the bills since he’d been the one using all the power.

As that final evening drew to a close, he picked up his stuffed rucksack and the guitar case and prepared to leave, having already decided he would set off from his own flat before dawn. But something stopped him as he went to open the front door, his chest suddenly tightening at the thought of the big, cold flat waiting for him, so empty and so impersonal still, while this house – this home – stood unused for the night.

He looked around again, at the photos of Val and Lyn and Jack, and of Laura’s family and friends. He looked at the picture of himself and Robbie taken at a barbecue last summer, in pride of place near the fireplace.

He looked over at the dining table, where they’d all sat together so often, either dreading one of Robbie’s culinary ‘voyages of discovery’ or savouring one of Laura’s finest home-cooked creations. He looked across at the sofa, seeing the sag in the cushions showing where Robbie and Laura so often curled up together, unchanged even by his own presence there over the last weeks.

He dropped his rucksack with a thud and toed off his shoes, nodding once. Decision made. One last night – they’d be back then, and he wouldn’t need to stay. He could go back to his flat, easily, knowing he’d see them nearly every day. Robbie and Laura were really home to him, he’d come to understand, rather than their admittedly lovely house. 

It was still dark when voices downstairs dragged him from a deep and dreamless sleep, and James sat up with a gasp, fumbling one hand out from beneath the quilt to find his phone. Bloody burglars, of all things, on the very night before Robbie and Laura were due to arrive back in the country. 

But even as he unlocked the phone and started to call for backup, his sleepy brain suddenly recognised with a start just who the voices he could hear actually belonged to.

“…like we’ve never been away, isn’t it, love? Ah, look. James has even filled the fridge for us. D’you fancy a cuppa, Laura?”

“Tea sounds just about perfect, thanks Robbie, though make mine a decaf, would you? I’m sure the jetlag will kick in sooner rather than later.”

James dropped his phone back onto the bedside table in shock, glancing at the time. Coming up for five in the morning – Robbie and Laura were back early, and somehow they were back in Oxford, rather than phoning him from the airport. Why hadn’t they phoned him?

He was out of bed and halfway down the stairs before it occurred to him that he might give them both one hell of a fright, in his baggy tartan pyjama bottoms and his torn grey t-shirt, his hair no doubt sticking up in all directions.

The thought wasn’t enough to stop him, though, not for a second. They were home. Robbie was home, and Laura too.

He stumbled to a stop in the kitchen doorway, the tiles freezing cold on his bare feet, and braced his hands on the door frame as he peered in. Laura and Robbie stood by the sink with mugs in their hands, a pile of suitcases abandoned in the corner of the room, and it was Laura who spotted him first.

“Look who’s here!” She nudged Robbie with a cheeky grin before placing her mug on the kitchen table, crossing quickly to where James stood. She wrapped her arms around him tightly in a huge bear hug, burying her face in his chest, a faint waft of her fruity perfume reaching James’s nose as she did so. “Missed you, James,” she whispered, and in his shock all he could do was squeeze her back tightly as his eyes locked with Robbie’s across the room. 

“You’re home early,” James started, gasping a little as his ribs seemed to creak under Laura’s surprisingly strong grip. “And you didn’t call me.”

“Our flight got changed at the last minute, and we didn’t want to make you change your plans. Figured we’d turn up on your doorstep and surprise you instead.” Robbie’s grin was wide, his blue eyes bright in spite of the obvious exhaustion of a full day spent travelling. He shrugged, taking another sip from his tea before placing it very deliberately on the table next to Laura’s, never breaking eye contact with James. “Out of the way, love. My turn.”

Laura disengaged, stepping back with damp eyes and a slightly watery smile. James barely had time to take a deep breath before Robbie was across the room and wrapping his stronger arms around him, hauling James forwards and slightly off balance. He hesitated for barely a second before lifting his own arms and hugging the older man back as tightly as he could.

This embrace was something the pair of them hadn’t managed when Robbie and Laura had left, and something James hadn’t quite realised he’d needed until that moment. “You’re home,” he whispered again, blinking as if the pair of them were a lovely dream that might fade away any second with the urgent beeping of his alarm. “Are you really here?”

“We’re really here, James.” Laura reached one hand up to rub gently between his shoulder blades as he let his head drop forwards to rest on Robbie’s, breathing deeply and letting the familiar spice of Robbie’s aftershave fill his lungs. Their twin scents were somehow every bit as comforting and reassuring as they had been all those months back when James had needed them so very much. “We’re home now.”

For a long minute they remained locked together, and then, at the very same moment, the pair of them as perfectly in sync as they always had been, they each stepped back. Robbie kept one hand on James’s arm, though, and Laura’s hand still rested on his back, as if they were also afraid he might disappear on them in the blink of an eye.

James shook himself slightly, still feeling half-asleep, and finally managed to say, “Welcome home, both of you.” He dropped a warm kiss to Laura’s cheek. “How was the flight?” 

“Long,” Robbie replied with a shudder and another smile, turning back towards the kettle and dropping his hand from James’s arm. “Glad you’re here actually, man. I can show you a few of these photos, just the edited highlights, and then you can show me again how to upload them onto the computer. You fancy tea or coffee? Ah, what am I saying – coffee at this time of the morning, right? After all these years, I should know what you’re like when you get dragged out of bed unexpectedly.”

Bed. He’d been in bed, asleep. In their house, without their knowledge, or their permission.

Neither Robbie nor Laura seemed surprised to see him, though, and James thought for a second before he realised. “You saw my shoes by the door on your way in, didn’t you?” he asked, with what he knew was a lopsided grin. “And yes, coffee please.”

“Saw your car first, James, on our way in!” Robbie laughed, then promptly stifled a yawn. “A lovely surprise that was, let me tell you. We were wondering how early we could get away with waking you – we didn’t want you setting off to Heathrow and not knowing we were back.”

“I haven’t stayed over much. Or at all, really, except for the odd late night. Or when the weather was bad, but I just wanted to check…” James stuttered to a stop, his cheeks burning, and Laura slung a warm arm around his shoulders as she pulled him down to sit at the kitchen table by her side.

“We always told you that you were welcome here any time. Perhaps Robbie should’ve just asked you to move in here while we were gone. We did talk about it, actually.” Laura shot Robbie a half-hearted glare across the room.

Robbie brought James a steaming mug of rich-smelling coffee and settled at the table opposite, reclaiming own mug of tea. “He’d only just got that lovely great flat of his,” he told Laura indignantly, winking at James as he spoke, a conspiratorial gesture that warmed James’s heart instantly. “You can’t get out of a lease just like that, even if maybe it might’ve been a bit easier all round.”

“Still, you should have told him he could stay over if he wanted to, and not made him feel – ”

“I’m really glad you’re both home,” James blurted out, immediately burying his amusement at their fond bickering by lifting his mug to his lips.

“It’s been a great trip – the trip of a lifetime, in fact – but I’m certainly glad to be home, too.” Robbie yawned again, triggering matching yawns in both Laura and James, before suddenly producing a camera, seemingly out of nowhere. “Now, about these photos – ”

“Later, Robbie,” Laura chided gently with another yawn, leaning sideways onto James’s shoulder. “Plenty of time for that after we’ve all had some sleep, okay?”

“Aye, fair point.” Robbie turned towards James and grinned, a familiar twinkle in his blue eyes. “And as for you, well, you’ll be here this evening for dinner, obviously, so you can just unpack that rucksack of yours and stay over tonight as well. Especially now you’ve got your own key and all.”

James smiled softly at the realisation that the emergency key could really be his own key now – Robbie and Laura were home, and, it seemed, he was home too.


End file.
